Adventures in the Attic
I'm on a quest. I'm looking for a box I last saw my attic. How long ago? Who knows? Ten maybe even fifteen years ago.
"Are you sure it's here?" my husband asked.
Our attic has no real floor. You kind of have to balance on the beams or risk falling through the ceiling below. At this point in our lives, I'm not sure that my husband's balance is really better than mine. But I also know that it's important to let people help you, especially when they offer that help willingly.
So this lovely July morning, we went poking around in the attic. Let it be said that it's hotter than Hades up there. It's dusty. There are a ton of exposed nails and roof shingles from when the roof got replaced many years ago. It's not exactly a great place to hang out. But hang out we did, at least for a little while.
To quote U2, I still haven't found what I'm looking for. And what is it, you ask, that made me go poking through the dirt and the spiders in the heat? It's a small box of letters. Yup. In the days before email and texting, I was quite a letter writer.
I've been working on a journal project. I'm not a terribly faithful journal keeper. Sometimes I go months or maybe even years without an entry. However, since I've been at it on and off since high school, I've managed to be fairly prolific. I've been sorting these chronologically and putting them in a binder. The first binder and set of sheet protectors I bought only got me five years into the project, so that should give you an idea of how much stuff there is. At any rate, I feel like the journals and the letters kind of belong together since I'm archiving anyway.
My friend Ann Marie was initially concerned about the journal project. She was afraid I was trying to live in the past or at the very least, obsessing over it. But no, it's more like understanding myself or using the past as a lens of understanding for the present. While I still feel that it's only relatively recently that I've really become badass (at least some of the time), I can look back and see that the seeds of it where always there, just waiting for an opportunity to bloom.
I can look back and see that I have always loved passionately and with my whole heart. Perhaps this makes me more susceptible to heartbreak but I can also look back and see that I have survived heartbreak. Many times. And I will undoubtedly survive it yet again. It's reassuring. It's even fascinating to me, this study of me. I'm not trying to be a narcissist here. I am just always and forever trying to have a better understanding of myself so I can move forward effectively.
I didn't find my box of letters. I found a nice box of dishes we got as a wedding present. Hauled those down. Might as well use them. We found a book about computer programming in Basic. That made me laugh out loud. (For those of you who don't know, Basic was a computer language which was supposed to be the "future". It had been obsolete for a long time by the time the internet showed up.) I found a red and gold plastic "Razer Ray Gun". You pull the trigger and it makes a great noise and lights up. Not going to lie, this was a fabulous find, although admittedly not what I went up there for. I also have a few boxes to sort through still.
As I write this blog, it occurs to me that there is one more place my letters might be if not the attic. I will go and look. Because I am a ridiculous keeper of stuff as well as a keeper of ridiculous stuff, I have no doubt that whatever that adventure holds will provide even more blog fodder. Stick with me friends. It could get interesting.
"Are you sure it's here?" my husband asked.
Our attic has no real floor. You kind of have to balance on the beams or risk falling through the ceiling below. At this point in our lives, I'm not sure that my husband's balance is really better than mine. But I also know that it's important to let people help you, especially when they offer that help willingly.
So this lovely July morning, we went poking around in the attic. Let it be said that it's hotter than Hades up there. It's dusty. There are a ton of exposed nails and roof shingles from when the roof got replaced many years ago. It's not exactly a great place to hang out. But hang out we did, at least for a little while.
To quote U2, I still haven't found what I'm looking for. And what is it, you ask, that made me go poking through the dirt and the spiders in the heat? It's a small box of letters. Yup. In the days before email and texting, I was quite a letter writer.
I've been working on a journal project. I'm not a terribly faithful journal keeper. Sometimes I go months or maybe even years without an entry. However, since I've been at it on and off since high school, I've managed to be fairly prolific. I've been sorting these chronologically and putting them in a binder. The first binder and set of sheet protectors I bought only got me five years into the project, so that should give you an idea of how much stuff there is. At any rate, I feel like the journals and the letters kind of belong together since I'm archiving anyway.
My friend Ann Marie was initially concerned about the journal project. She was afraid I was trying to live in the past or at the very least, obsessing over it. But no, it's more like understanding myself or using the past as a lens of understanding for the present. While I still feel that it's only relatively recently that I've really become badass (at least some of the time), I can look back and see that the seeds of it where always there, just waiting for an opportunity to bloom.
I can look back and see that I have always loved passionately and with my whole heart. Perhaps this makes me more susceptible to heartbreak but I can also look back and see that I have survived heartbreak. Many times. And I will undoubtedly survive it yet again. It's reassuring. It's even fascinating to me, this study of me. I'm not trying to be a narcissist here. I am just always and forever trying to have a better understanding of myself so I can move forward effectively.
I didn't find my box of letters. I found a nice box of dishes we got as a wedding present. Hauled those down. Might as well use them. We found a book about computer programming in Basic. That made me laugh out loud. (For those of you who don't know, Basic was a computer language which was supposed to be the "future". It had been obsolete for a long time by the time the internet showed up.) I found a red and gold plastic "Razer Ray Gun". You pull the trigger and it makes a great noise and lights up. Not going to lie, this was a fabulous find, although admittedly not what I went up there for. I also have a few boxes to sort through still.
As I write this blog, it occurs to me that there is one more place my letters might be if not the attic. I will go and look. Because I am a ridiculous keeper of stuff as well as a keeper of ridiculous stuff, I have no doubt that whatever that adventure holds will provide even more blog fodder. Stick with me friends. It could get interesting.
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